ANAKIN SKYWALKER didn’t even flinch when you climbed into his lap. His chair just creaked softly beneath both your weights, the city lights casting reflections across the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. His black tie was loosened around his neck, sleeves rolled up just enough to show those strong forearms you loved to cling to.
“—no, I said I want the numbers by noon, not excuses,” he said firmly, sharply, edge of his tone screaming in frustration, with his jaw tight, into his Bluetooth earpiece,
Yet, one hand had already slid up your thigh under the hem of your silky little dress like it was normal. Like you weren’t slowly sinking down onto his exposed, free cock (from your love making before), right where anyone could walk in, really.
You bit your lip, trying so hard to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. You were already so full of him, stuffed to the brim, and he hadn’t even moved yet. He turned his head just slightly, letting you press soft, open-mouthed kisses against the hinge of his jaw. The golden skin of his was warm, rough in all the right places, letting his veins poke against his throat. And he definitely smelled like expensive cologne yet with a hint of vanilla.
“Uh-huh,” he muttered into the mic, though his voice dipped just slightly—because you’d rolled your hips just so right, and your tight little cunt was already clenching around him. “Then figure it out. I’m not repeating myself.”
You whimpered ever so faintly against his throat, hands gripping his shoulders as you started to move—slow, teasing bounces that made your thighs tremble. He was so deep, so thick, so good it made your head spin.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispered under his breath, free hand coming up to palm your tits through your dress. “You wanna be loud? Gonna make me hang up on this idiot?”
You shook your head quickly, lips brushing over his ear as you kissed down the side of his neck. You couldn’t help it—you were obsessed with him. His voice, his scent, his age, the way his skin tasted when you sucked a mark just under his collar.
“Just look at you,” he mumbled, clearly not caring if the guy on the line could hear the shift in his tone. “Riding me like a good girl… quiet as a mouse. Fuck, this little hole feels good.” you clenched at the praise, nails digging into his shoulder as you bounced a little faster, breathing ragged against his neck.
“That’s it,” he groaned lowly, finally muting the call for a second just to grab your face and make you look at him. “Gonna come for me, baby? Huh? Riding daddy’s cock like this? Look at that pretty face…”
You nodded desperately, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes from the pressure and the pleasure, as he thrusted up into you once—hard enough that you had to bite down on his neck to keep from crying out.
whenever I watch this scene I keep thinking abt that one episode of The Hang With Ramin Karimloo where he and Sierra talked abt the 25th so... here's a cast commentary style edit i guess
I have a request for Lando Norris x Sister!reader where she gets cheated on. Please🫶🏻 I love your writing
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 🧡
Part 2
Big Brother to the Rescue
The paddock was buzzing with activity, fans cheering and cameras clicking as drivers moved between interviews and meetings. It was a typical race weekend—hectic, thrilling, and intense. But for Yn, none of it seemed to matter.
She walked beside Lando, her older brother, keeping her head down. Normally, she loved being at the Grand Prix. She’d tease Lando about his starts, laugh at his banter with the other drivers, and soak in the high-energy atmosphere. But today, her heart felt heavy.
Lando, always in tune with her moods, glanced down at her and frowned. “You’re too quiet,” he said as they reached the McLaren hospitality area. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”
Yn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
That was all it took for Lando’s protective instincts to kick in. “Oh, you’re definitely talking about it. Did something happen? Who do I need to fight?”
Yn couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his immediate leap to violence. “It’s nothing. Just...my boyfriend cheated on me.”
Lando froze mid-step. He turned to her, his expression shifting from shock to anger. “He what?”
“Cheated,” Yn repeated, her voice cracking slightly. “With some girl he met at a party. I found out yesterday.”
Lando clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “That absolute—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. First of all, you don’t deserve that. Second, I’m going to make sure you’re okay. And third, if I ever see him, he’s toast.”
Yn smiled faintly at his overprotective tone. “Thanks, Lan. But I don’t think anything can cheer me up right now.”
Lando wasn’t having it. “Challenge accepted.”
---
Throughout the morning, Lando hovered around her like a mother hen. He brought her tea, her favorite snacks, and even a McLaren hoodie to keep her warm. The other drivers began to notice.
“Why is Yn so quiet today?” Carlos asked, walking over to where she sat with her tea. “You’re usually giving Lando a hard time.”
“She’s going through something,” Lando replied, his tone making it clear the topic was off-limits. He wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He ruffled Yn’s hair affectionately before heading off.
A little while later, Charles and Pierre stopped by. “Yn, you’re not smiling,” Charles said, crouching down to her eye level. “That’s illegal. Lando, what have you done?”
“For once, it’s not my fault,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “She’s just—she’s sad. Leave her alone.”
Pierre, never one to resist a joke, smirked. “Do you need us to scare someone off? We’re good at that.”
“I can scare people off just fine,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks.”
Yn managed a small laugh, which made Charles and Pierre exchange victorious looks.
---
Later, when Ollie came by, he took one look at Yn and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, sitting down beside her. “What if I became your new boyfriend? I’d treat you like a queen.”
Yn laughed for the first time all day, the sound catching Lando’s attention from across the room. He walked over, arms crossed.
“Really, Ollie?” Lando said, glaring at his friend. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“What?” Ollie said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, I’d be an upgrade.”
Yn shook her head, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous, but effective,” Ollie said, winking at her.
Lando wasn’t amused. “Stick to racing, mate.”
Ollie shrugged and walked off, leaving Yn smiling. “He’s an idiot,” she said, leaning her head on Lando’s shoulder.
“True,” Lando agreed. “But if it made you laugh, I’ll allow it.”
---
As the day wore on, Lando continued to dote on Yn. He handed her tissues when she teared up, reminded her to drink water, and even skipped a strategy meeting to sit with her in the quiet corner of the hospitality area.
“You know,” Yn said softly, “you’re a really good brother.”
“Obviously,” Lando replied with a smirk. “But thanks. And for real, Yn, don’t let that guy make you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the idiot, not you.”
Yn sniffled and smiled up at him. “You’re the best.”
“Duh,” Lando said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, what do you say we watch the race together? I’ll dedicate my first overtake to you.”
Yn laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Deal.”
By the time the sun set over the paddock, Yn was back to herself, and it was all thanks to Lando—her overprotective, slightly annoying, but always reliable big brother.
keegan is ruthles. and he's very mcuh aware that merciless part of him should stay at the door and not come anywhere near you, his soft sweet missus. but it's difficult, you know? specially with the honeyd gem that you hide between your legs.
that's why whenever he gets his hands on you he's a bit cruel - but not deliberately -. he just wants to make you feel so good that he ends up overdoing it.
using his body to keep you still, hand tightly wrapped around your neck, trying to stop you from squirming away as you are sat right between his legs. his other continuously plunges into your soaking middle, fingering you into another dimenssion.
thick calloused digits hitting that spot inside of you relentlessly, making you cum again and again, the overstimulation making you loose control and your legs shake like crazy while he pulls those beautiful moans out of you.
he may be a ruthless fucker, but if it's to make you cum, then he has permission.
''You're such a fucking asshole and—'' Your words are interrupted by a whiny moan when Keegan starts to thrust up, not letting you get distracted by anything despite your rant.
''Yeah? Keep going, baby. Ride this fucking cock.'' You do as he says, getting on your feet to be able to ride him harder and deeper, the tip of his cock hitting your spongy cervix every single time he goes all the way in. One of your hands is on his hard chest for support, while the other one is holding his jaw, keeping his mouth open to hear the downright lewd groans leaving his lips.
''And... annoying. Cocky. Arrogant—'' Each insult is punctuated by you dropping on his cock, walls tightening up even more when you feel him throbbing inside you.
''Horrible.'' You keep ranting about him despite how good he feels inside you, despite the way his fat cock has your lips gripping on him for dear life. He is all of those things and more, but the tension that has been building up to this day was impossible to ignore. You're impaling yourself down on his cock and he's letting you, mouth open slightly ajar and eyes rolling to the back of his head.
''Fuck— yeah?'' He finds the energy to speak despite the way you're destroying his cock, not even thrusting up anymore and simply letting you do all the work. His hand trails up your spine, grasping at the hair on the back of your neck and keeping your head in place, letting you ride his cock despite his rough hold.
His hand lets go only to slap your face, making you ride faster despite the stinging pain. What a fucking asshole. It doesn't take long for you to return the favor, hand coming up to slap the annoying smirk off of his face— and it works shortly, he looks shocked at getting slapped back, yet pure amusement is soon written all over his annoyingly handsome face, seeing it as a challenge.
You know you fucked up when his calloused hands grasp your waist, holding you in place before using his strength to switch positions, now on top of you. His cock thrusts even deeper like this, hitting your cervix over and over at an almost punishing pace.
''Acting like a fucking bitch all day—'' He groans out, words interrupted by the sharp hiss leaving his lips at the way your pussy tightens more around his cock. He looks down at your lips, leaning closer while managing to keep his brutal thrusts.
''Open that fucking mouth, baby.'' You obey, too fucked out to even think much about it. You're barely able to register the way he spits into your mouth before kissing you, tongues wrapping around the other in a disgusting mess of spit. His hand comes up to grope your tit, fingers squeezing and pulling on the nipple every few seconds as he kisses you, ignoring the way your mixed spit is dripping down the corners of your lips.
The air is heavy with the smell of sex and the sounds of your muffled moans, his grip on your body bruising, fingers digging into your skin as he fucks you with an almost animalistic hunger. He doesn't stop making out with you even when his thrusts become even more brutal, spilling into you with a final, deep thrust. His hot white cum filling you up only makes your body tense up, riding out your orgasms together before he collapses on top of you, his weight keeping you pinned to the bed.
''Get off of me, fatass.'' Your protests go ignored, the asshole only making himself even heavier on top of you even when you try your best to get him off.
Ugh, sorry, more little blurbs while I try to write something cohesive.
Ghost who makes you call him sir in bed when he slaps you across the face, hiking one of your legs up to your stomach, fucking you on your side. "So good, little slut, so precious." He growls. Telling you to beg him louder, tell him how much you fucking like it when you take his cock deep inside your slutty hole. "Take that cock! Fuckin' take it, beg for it until I see those sweet tears."
Vs.
Simon who breathes you on, practically humps you, hands holding your stomach and smoothing over you arched hips off the bed. "Love... fuck, you're so good... like heaven around me-" Telling you how good you're being for him without him even having to ask you. "Taking it so deep, so fuckin' deep in that cock, all for me. All for me baby..." Driving his cock deep inside you, kissing your ear and telling you just have good you sound when you take it deep.
Keegan who handcuffs you to the bed, watching you moan and bounce with your wrists bound to the headboard. His hand firm in your messy hair, watching you cry as he ruthlessly bullies his thick cock deep inside you. "Look at you, all messed up just for me..." His pelvis slamming between your thighs with each heartbeat. "Fuckin' moan for me baby! Scream my name! Oh that's it! That's it get louder!"
Vs.
Keegan who handcuffs your wrists in front of you, giving him free will go tug on them. Leaning down to kiss your mouth open, tugging the cuffs lightly to push you down on his cock. "Fuck... Fuck baby you're gonna drive me crazy like that." He purrs against your lips, rolling his eyes and fucking his hips into you. "All up on my cock like that. Oh baby you make me want it-" Hearing you whimper into his mouth and kiss him back, feeling you taking his cock, it's all he needs.
König who loves to make your little back arch. Telling you to bend more or he'd break you. Firm hands on either side of your hips as he watches his cock slide deeply in and out of you. "Such a little thing I get the pleasure of breaking. Such a good little thing for me!" Telling you if you keep acting like such a slut he'll fill you up deep with it. "Quiet maus, I don't want the neighbors to hear what a filthy thing you are!"
Vs.
König who pants softly, hands on your hips bouncing you along his thick cock. Watching your stomach bulge slightly or your hole stretch, the tip of his cock pressing into the wall of your body. Watching your eyes flutter and you moan and moan around him. "I love you, I love you precious little thing..." Eyelids fluttering when he sees you crumble under your shaking thighs and the weight of your orgasm. "Oh so good liebling... Fuck, so so good.."
synopsis: After months of deployment, Keegan finally returns to the apartment you’d both barely settled into before he left. What was once an empty, impersonal space is now a warm, inviting home filled with your touch. As the two of you reconnect over dinner, the love and comfort you’ve created together remind him of what he’s been fighting for.
warnings: None, just tender, heartwarming fluff.
a/n: is all about love in the little things. Hope you enjoy this cozy slice of domestic bliss!
The apartment was empty, save for a few boxes stacked haphazardly in the corner. The walls were bare, the hardwood floors scuffed, and the faint scent of paint still lingered in the air. You stood in the middle of the room, hands on your hips, surveying the space that would soon become your home.
“It’s a bit… sad, isn’t it?” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Keegan.
He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room. “It’s a blank slate,” he said simply, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We’ll make it ours.”
You grinned at his optimism, turning back to the room. “Ours,” you repeated softly, the word wrapping around you like a warm hug.
The two of you spent the next few hours unpacking, your voices mingling with the sound of tape ripping and boxes being shuffled around. Keegan insisted on doing the heavy lifting, even though you playfully argued that you were just as capable.
By the end of the day, the apartment still looked sparse, but there were signs of life—a cozy blanket draped over the couch, your favorite mugs lined up on the kitchen counter, a Polaroid of the two of you pinned to the fridge.
Keegan pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s a start,” he murmured.
“It’s perfect,” you replied, leaning into him.
But perfection was fleeting. Just weeks later, Keegan was called back to duty.
The morning he left was quiet. Too quiet.
You stood at the door, your arms wrapped around yourself as you watched him lace up his boots. His duffel bag sat by the door, a stark reminder of the goodbye you were about to say.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, his voice steady, though you could hear the tension beneath it.
“You better be,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I’m not finishing decorating this place without you.”
He stood, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was firm, grounding, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that time would fly by.
“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.
“You too,” you replied, your fingers clutching the fabric of his jacket.
When he pulled away, his lips brushed against your forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you said, your voice trembling.
And then he was gone.
The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. The apartment felt cold without him, the silence oppressive. You threw yourself into work, into little projects to pass the time, but it was never quite enough.
Until one day, you decided to change things.
You started small—string lights hung above the windows, a tapestry on the wall to add some color. You printed out photos, memories of the two of you, and pinned them up in the hallway. You found an old record player at a thrift shop, and soon the soft crackle of vinyl filled the apartment, chasing away the silence.
Piece by piece, the space transformed. It wasn’t just an apartment anymore. It was a home.
The apartment smelled like garlic and rosemary, the faint crackle of something sizzling on the stovetop breaking the silence. Keegan stepped inside, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his boots heavy against the polished wood floor. He froze just past the threshold, his breath catching at the sight in front of him.
You stood at the counter, your back to him, swaying slightly to the soft hum of music playing from the kitchen speaker. The oversized sweater you wore hung loosely off one shoulder, and your hair was messily tied back, strands framing your face.
It wasn’t just the sight of you that rooted him to the spot—it was the warmth of the apartment itself.
The last time he’d been here, the walls had been bare, the furniture sparse and impersonal. The place had felt like a waiting room, a temporary stop in the chaos of life. But now, it was something else entirely.
String lights curled along the edges of the ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow. Polaroids covered one wall—pictures of the two of you smiling, laughing, caught in quiet moments of joy. A tapestry hung behind the couch, its rich, earthy tones adding depth to the room. On the side tables, lamps with warm light bathed the corners, pushing away any lingering shadows.
It looked like home.
Keegan couldn’t stop watching you. The way your hands moved so naturally as you stirred the sauce, the way you hummed a tune softly under your breath—it all felt like a dream. Every movement, every little detail, reminded him of how much he’d missed you, of the pieces of himself that had been scattered while he was away.
He let his gaze wander again, taking in the transformation of the apartment. On the coffee table, he noticed a candle, its flame flickering gently, filling the air with the comforting scent of vanilla. A knit blanket was draped over the back of the couch, the kind you’d pull over yourself while reading or watching a movie. Small details like these made the space feel alive, vibrant in a way it hadn’t been before.
And you—his heart ached just looking at you. It had been months since he’d last seen you, months since he’d felt your arms around him or heard the way you whispered his name like it was the only word that mattered.
Keegan cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. "Hey."
You startled, spinning around with wide eyes, but the moment you saw him, the surprise melted into something radiant.
"Keegan!" you gasped, abandoning the knife on the cutting board as you rushed toward him.
He dropped his duffel just in time to catch you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you leapt into his embrace. The familiar scent of you—lavender and something sweet—filled his senses, grounding him in a way nothing else could.
"You’re home," you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.
He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. "I’m home," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands framing his face. "You didn’t tell me you were coming. I would’ve—"
"Didn’t want you to wait on me," he interrupted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Wanted to surprise you."
You smiled, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You’re a good kind of surprise, Keegan."
His gaze drifted around the apartment, taking in every detail—the photos, the lights, the small touches of you everywhere. "You did all this?" he asked, his voice soft with wonder.
You followed his gaze, a hint of shyness creeping into your smile. "Yeah. I wanted it to feel like… like us."
Keegan shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It’s perfect," he said, pulling you close again. "You made it perfect."
The timer on the stove beeped, and you pulled back with a laugh. "Dinner’s going to burn if I don’t get back to it."
"Let it," he said, his hands refusing to let you go.
You rolled your eyes but kissed him gently. "I missed you too, but you’re not starving on my watch."
Reluctantly, he let you slip out of his arms, watching as you returned to the kitchen. He followed, leaning against the counter as you fussed over the meal.
"Can I help?" he asked, though the thought of doing anything other than watching you felt impossible.
"Just sit there and look pretty," you teased, glancing at him over your shoulder.
He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before grabbing a chair to sit by the kitchen island. His eyes never left you as you moved around, his chest full of a peace he hadn’t felt in months.
Your smile softened, and you stepped closer, holding out the spoon. “Taste this for me?”
He leaned down, letting you guide the spoon to his lips. The flavor was rich and comforting, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the food.
“Perfect,” he said, his voice rasping slightly.
You grinned, pleased, and turned back to the stove.
Keegan stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You stilled for a moment, but then relaxed into his embrace, leaning back against him.
“I missed this,” he murmured into your hair.
“Me too,” you whispered. “I kept trying to imagine what it’d feel like when you finally came home. I don’t think I imagined it being this good.”
He tightened his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “This is better than I ever could’ve imagined. You’ve made this place… you’ve made it feel alive.”
You turned in his arms, your hands sliding up to cup his face. “It didn’t feel alive without you, Keegan. It didn’t feel like home.”
The weight of your words settled over him, his chest tightening. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your back. “I’m sorry it took so long to come back,” he said, his voice heavy with regret.
“You’re here now,” you said softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “That’s all that matters.”
The oven timer went off, breaking the moment, and you laughed lightly as you pulled away. “Go sit down. Dinner’s ready.”
Keegan watched as you plated the food, every movement so familiar, so effortlessly you. The table was already set—another small detail that tugged at his heart. Candles flickered in the center, their warm glow adding to the cozy atmosphere.
“Do you like it?” you asked, breaking him from his thoughts.
“Like it?” he echoed, his voice quiet. He gestured to the room around him. “I love it, sweetheart. I love everything you’ve done here. It’s… it’s us.”
As you both sat down, Keegan reached across the table, taking your hand in his.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low.
“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.
“For all of this,” he said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “For waiting for me. For turning this place into something I want to come back to. For being you.”
Your eyes shimmered, and you squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to thank me, Keegan. This is what we do. We’re a team.”
He nodded, his throat too tight to speak. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt at peace. Sitting there with you, in the home you’d created together, he knew—this was where he belonged. This was everything he’d been fighting for. For the first time in a long time, Keegan felt like he could breathe. The apartment, the food, the warmth—it wasn’t just a place to return to.
summary: Buck helps you make cookies for the rest of the 118 and you both get distracted
word count: 2k
cw: make out session
part one part two
Your heart raced as you mixed the dough in front of you as you thought about the fact that Buck would be there any second. The two of you had been…well, you didn’t exactly know what you were, but what you did know was you were having fun. You had been spending any spare second you had together, but he still hadn’t seen your apartment and that made you nervous.
Where someone lived said a lot about them and you wondered what he was going to think about it. It was much more decorated than his place with artwork taking over the walls and funky furniture pieces and little trinkets taking over practically every spare inch of the place.
You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You were comfortable with Buck now and he certainly wouldn’t have judged the way your apartment looked. In fact, you were sure that he would have loved to look at every single one of your belongings, asking questions to let you know how interested he was in it all. If Evan Buckley loved one thing, it was hearing you talk.
He loved that you had gotten more comfortable around him to the point of yapping all the time. And he’d listen with so much interest. You could have read a phone book and he would have sat there and listened intently, hanging onto every word. It had gotten to the point where he would ask you to read to him when you were in the firehouse waiting to respond to a call. He’d lay his head in your lap and close his eyes while you ran your fingers through his hair, reading aloud to him.
There was a knock on the door that pulled you out of your thoughts and heat rushed to your cheeks as you wiped the flour off of your apron. You raced to the door and opened it, Buck on the other side with a bottle of white wine. He had on a bright smile that always only seemed to be reserved for you as you let him inside and he pressed a peck to your lips before closing the door behind him and making his way over to the island.
He set the bottle down then turned to you, his arms circling your waist as he pulled you in for another kiss, this time, slotting his lips between yours, his lips moving against yours slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. You pulled away before he was ready and turned to grab some glasses for the beverage, Buck hot on your heels, grabbing hold of your waist and peppering your cheek with kisses, loving to hear the giggles fall from your lips before letting you go.
“So do I get an apron?” He asked as he leaned against the counter next to you as you grabbed the glasses, barely reaching them.
“They’re over there,” you pointed to the hook that was on the wall to the left of him. Your hand barely brushed the bottom of the glass and Buck stood behind you, resting his hand on your waist, reaching for the glass you couldn’t get to with ease while also grabbing a second glass with one of his other fingers. He then set the glasses on the counter in front of you and you turned around, a shy smile playing on your lips.
“Thank you,” you looked up into his pretty blue eyes, feeling like you could fall into them just like every time you looked into them for too long. They were hypnotizing. Almost like a siren luring a sailor to his death, and you supposed that was a way you wouldn’t mind dying.
“Of course,” he nodded. “Anytime.”
“So…wine?” You asked and Buck turned around, reaching for the bottle while simultaneously looking for a corkscrew. You seemed to know exactly what he wanted and grabbed the thing from one of the drawers behind you before handing it to him.
He pulled the cork out with ease and poured the wine before handing a glass to you. You clinked them together and you each took a sip before setting the glasses down on the counter.
“So what’s first?” He asked, rubbing his hands together.
“Wash your hands. That’s arguably the most important step.” Buck nodded and removed his hoodie and you didn’t miss the way the shirt he was wearing underneath rode up, giving you a perfect view of his happy trail. You looked a little too long then turned away, your cheeks heating.
To distract yourself, you turned to the oven and put it on the right temperature before heading back to your dough that you had been working on. Buck admired you while you threw some chocolate chips into the dough, loving the idea of doing domestic things with you. He wanted to help you wash dishes and fold laundry and straighten up the place before you had guests over.
He was falling hard and fast and the thing was, he didn’t even care. He would have usually proceeded with caution considering his relationship history, but for once, he wasn’t scared. People were always leaving him, and for once, he didn’t feel that way. He had a feeling you’d stay with him until your very last breath.
You were nothing if not loyal, always sticking by people even if they didn’t deserve it. But Buck? Buck deserved it more than anyone you knew. He was the sweetest, most caring man you had ever known and you couldn’t believe that you had actually thought that he hated you.
Buck tied his apron and washed his hands thoroughly before waiting patiently for your instruction. You finished folding the chips into the dough then set it aside before grabbing the cookie sheet and putting some parchment paper on top of it.
“Are you gonna let me help?” He asked. “That is why you asked me over, right?” Truthfully, you had asked Buck over just because you wanted to see him. You were too shy to admit it to him initially, so you just made up the whole cookie thing. You hadn’t even planned on making them.
“Can I be honest?” You asked, suddenly feeling very embarrassed about your silly lie.
“Of course,” he nodded, reaching up to give your shoulder a squeeze. You knew he wouldn’t judge or laugh, but you couldn’t seem to choke down your fear.
“I lied,” you admitted, turning away from him. “I didn’t actually need your help, I just-” you cut yourself off, not sure if you should come clean. You turned away, staring at the time that was displayed on the oven.
“You just what?” He asked softly, grabbing you by your chin and turning your head to face him, but you still wouldn’t look him in the eyes, yours staring down at the apron he was wearing. It was red and white gingham with little ruffles at the bottom.
“I just wanted to see you.” Your voice was so soft that it was barely audible, but Buck could always somehow hear you despite that.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he chuckled, tilting your chin up and you finally looked him in the eyes. “I wanted to see you too.”
“You did?” He couldn’t believe you were even asking that. He wanted to see you all the time. Even if he had just been with you, he was always desperate for more of your company.
“Let me put it this way,” he stepped closer to you, grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you to him, leaning down so that your face was only inches from his. “I was going to invite you over before I got your text. I don’t like being away from you. When I get home from working a twelve hour shift with you, I have to force myself not to knock on your door or call you.”
Your heart warmed at his confession. From his words, it had seemed like Buck was completely and utterly obsessed with you and you felt the exact same way about him. In a split second decision, you moved away from him and he followed you, unsure of what you were doing. Had he been too vulnerable? Had he shared too much?
You reached into the little bowl that was on the table that was by the door and grabbed hold of a key before turning to Buck and holding it out to him. His eyes widened as he stared down at it, the little thing between your fingers saying so much. He had hoped that the two of you would have gotten to that stage eventually, just not this quick.
“Honey-” he paused, trying to get his thoughts together. “Are you-are you sure?”
“Positive,” you nodded with a smile. “I want you to have it so you can come over whenever you want. Even after work. Especially after work. We can unwind together and have dinner and go to bed.” The way you were describing it made then whole thing sound so inviting and
Buck was very into the idea.
“Deal,” he nodded, grabbing the key from you and pocketing it before pulling you into a kiss, smiling against your lips and you did the same, laughing into his mouth because of how happy you were. The whole thing was messy with your teeth clinking together, but you eventually figured it out, your bodies pressed together, melting as one. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip as he tilted your head back so he had more access. You opened up and his tongue slid inside, swirling it around as his hands slid down, grabbing the backs of your thighs and he lifted.
You jumped and he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he carried you over to the counter. He set you down on the edge and he pushed down on your chin to open your mouth wider so he could taste every inch of your mouth. You tasted like cookie dough and the wine you had a little sip of and Buck couldn’t get enough. You just tasted so good and he wanted to devour you.
The oven went off, the loud beep catching the both of you off guard. You broke apart in surprise and Buck hurried the oven to turn it off, chuckling to himself at the fact that you broke apart so quickly as if what you had been doing was wrong. And if kissing you was wrong, he certainly didn’t want to be right.
Once the oven was off, he made his way back over to you and you spread your legs, giving him space to stand between them. He reached behind you and untied your apron while you did his. He lifted the strap over your head and had to stop himself from looking down at your tank top that dipped very low, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage.
He got his own apron off then set them both next to you before leaning towards you, putting a hand on each side of you, caging you in. He leaned forward even more and just when your lips were about to meet, he grabbed his wine glass and took a sip, causing a very adorable pout to form on your lips.
“Oh, did you want something, honey?” He asked, taking another sip from his glass, trying his best to not laugh. “Because if you want something, you’re going to have to speak up.”
“I want a kiss.”
“Sorry.” He set his glass down. “I think those are in short supply tonight.” You knew he was pulling your leg and you were going to play along.
“Even for me?” You bat your eyelashes, knowing that that would always get him to give you whatever you wanted.
“Even for you,” he replied with a nod of his head. “But I supposed that I could spare one…but you have to give me something in return.” Now you weren’t even sure if you wanted him to kiss you anymore since he was being so difficult about it.
“Like what?” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him and never thought that something being angry would be so goddamn adorable.
“You have to read to me.”
“I was going to do that anyway.”
“You’re right,” he nodded. “Well, I guess I just give you one for free, but where’s the fun in that?”
“Forget it,” you scoffed, hopping off of the counter and headed to the stairs of your loft. Buck was hot on your heels, trying to reach out for you, but you were moving too fast.
You collapsed onto the bed and Buck was quick to lay on top of you, burying his face in your neck, peppering the spot with kisses as his hands reached up and he interlocked his fingers with yours.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he apologized against your skin. “I’ll give you all the kisses you want, just please don’t be mad at me.”
“I could never be mad at you, Buckley,” you said, pulling his head away from his neck so he’d look you in the eyes. He pressed a few quick pecks to your lips then buried his face in your neck again, his arms moving to circle your waist. Your hands moved up and down his back and eventually, the both of you fell asleep like that, thinking that the only place either of you ever wanted to be was wrapped up in each other’s arms.
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